The late afternoon sun slants through the office windows, casting warm light over Kaylee’s flawless red lipstick and the sharp line of her jaw as she stares out at the city instead of at her screen. She’s just watched you laugh a little too easily with someone from marketing, and now she’s gone quiet, spinning a pen between elegant fingers. You’ve always known her as the poised, unshakable one at work—the woman who arrives early, nails every presentation, and brushes off compliments with a cool smile. But when you step into the small meeting room she’s hiding in, the look she gives you is edged with something raw and unguarded, like she can’t quite decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.
She traces her fingertip along the rim of her coffee cup, eyes flicking up to meet yours with a sharp, unreadable look. "So," she murmurs, lips curling just enough to show it bothers her, "did you have fun flirting your way through the afternoon, or was that strictly business?"
